Like the Sun
by Daisy Brambleburr
Summary: A look into the thoughts of Boromir after the ring has taken power over him. Written by Rillnein


Title: Like the Sun  
Summary: A look into the thoughts of Boromir after the ring has taken power over him.  
Author:Rillnein(my elvish name!)  
  
A/N: Hello everyone! My name is Rillnein and I'm a long time lurker on FF.net. I love this site!  
My dear friend Daisy has finally talked me into writing my own piece of fanfic, and she has been kind enough to load it under her account since I don't have one. Credit is to be given to me Rillnein, Daisy especially asked me to say that.:) Alright this is the short vignette about Boromir. Now we all know that he redems himself in the end and of course we're all happy. Don't think I don't love this guy. If any of you have seen the extended DVD it's in the same time frame were they have left Lothlorien and Boromir really rags on Aragorn. "You've spent your life in the shadows! Afraid of who you are! What you are! Etc." Great scene. Anyways onto the story!   
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Disclaimer: I, very much to my displeasure am not the creator of such a fascinating world. Tolkein is, enough said.   
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The river of Anduin flowed gently by giving no thought to the man who rested on a rock by its shores. A member of the fellowship with the last watch of the night, Boromir son of Denethor. The moon glinted off the river and traced his set and hardened face. For hours now he had sat thus, giving heed to nothing save the thoughts that engraved themselves in his mind and would not be swept aside. Thoughts of greed and treachery, thoughts of need and desire. Desire, something every man possessed inside him, but some more so than others. This desire had become a plague to him; it had changed from something so insignificant to a lustful and covetous demon. Giving him no respite, no rest from torture. Ever since the fellowship had left Lothlorien his need had grown until he could no longer control the thoughts of his mind. He felt as if he was trapped. Trapped in himself, and trapped by something stronger than him. The most prevalent sensation he felt besides an undying need was something completely foreign to him. He felt infected as it were, infected by some sickness which clawed at his very being. And had twisted what at had first been a hope to help his people into something far less complex, he wanted it. He wanted the one ring, like so many others he had failed to escape the snare of its temptation. The very power it emanated called him, asked to be his own, and he could not deny it. And yet there were times where he would come to himself and feel disgust and loathing at his mind. They were becoming less and less frequent though. In his mind in some distorted way his feelings were justified. He pitied the poor creature that was Gollum. The one who was not worthy to wield such a great and terrible thing. One who was far too weak and insufferable. One who had become its slave. Boromir, with a mind that had not enough strength to see reality and come from his dreams, imagined himself a powerful ruler. Let himself dream of being a king of renowned. He had dreamt of it often and now the dream had been branded into his soul. He would be one of the great and mighty kings of old, he had to be. And when his glory had been acclaimed by the people of his city he would achieve all that his father had hoped for him. And he would satisfy all who looked to him for greatness...   
  
Boromir blinked, the pale light of dawn had crept into the sky. His thoughts had kept him from realizing. He stood and walked toward the camp. Legolas had risen and was leaning against a tree, waiting for the sunrise. He turned as Boromir entered the clearing, a look of contemplation on his face; the sun was cresting the horizon. Legolas inclined his head in greeting; Boromir reciprocated the gesture and then went to stand beside him. After a few moments' silence Legolas began to speak. "The sun has never failed to amaze me." He spoke in hushed and reverent tones. "In the reckoning of your people I am old and have seen many sunrises and sunsets in my time. But I do not think that I will every grow weary of them. Look, how it stretches it's rays and touches everything it sees. It is golden and bright and brings to every race on Middle Earth the hope of a new day." Boromir nodded in response. Into his mind began to creep the image of something else that was golden and bright, and held a power as great as the sun. They had not realized that Aragorn had woken until he stood beside them as well. Not soon after the hobbits and Gimli rose, and preparations for another day's journey were begun. As they set off in the boats Boromir's mind again turned to his aspiration to be a mighty king. And though he dreamed of being great and powerful the harsh and terrible truth was that he was the opposite. Something shriveled and starved had begun to grow inside, much a kin to Gollum whom he despised. Hungering for one thing that could bring him power. The thing that would destroy this mighty man of Gondor and rob him of his dream of glory.   
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